


relying on the sun

by monopolizers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M, Marijuana, Sexuality Crisis, Stoned Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7981453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monopolizers/pseuds/monopolizers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn didn't mind smoking up in full daylight, but Louis liked it better like this when it was just the two of them. There was something about the darkness that put him at ease.</p>
            </blockquote>





	relying on the sun

**Author's Note:**

> check the bottom for content notes or leave me a comment if you need more specific info
> 
> this was meant to be me getting back into practice with Zayn/Louis as I'm trying to write a diff zouis fic but instead it kinda ballooned? Sexuality "crisis" is probably a strong word for this but that was the only tag available. RIP. 
> 
> title is from Ben Khan's Zenith, which informed a lot of the mood of this fic

"What are you doing here?" Zayn said--rather rudely, Louis thought--when he found Louis on his bed, but he was smiling. "Who the fuck let you in?"

"Liam did," Louis said. Liam and Zayn had been living together since university; they made a good pair since they got on so well, but their house was always cluttered in a rather stressful way (Zayn) and filled with weights (Liam, and occasionally also Zayn). 

"I _told_ Liam not to let in strangers, especially ones that look like they haven't showered in a month, but he's just got such a trusting heart," Zayn said. He was smiling at Louis as he said it, the kind of smile where his entire face crinkled with it, and Louis felt uncomfortable under its weight as he often did lately. 

"What're you doing tonight?" he said. 

"I was planning on staying in and smoking up and ordering some pizza, cos Liam's going out and I like having the flat to myself, but now you're here," Zayn said. He raised an eyebrow at Louis--he wanted to know why Louis was over, clearly, but since Louis himself had no clue what the answer to that question was, he chose to avoid it. 

Instead he kicked out and settled himself on Zayn's bed. "Sounds like a plan," he said cheekily, and laughed when Zayn rolled his eyes.

 

*

 

Four hours later, Liam had left and Louis and Zayn had been trading a bowl between them, blowing the smoke out of Zayn's window. It was ostensibly to make sure the room didn't smell like weed, but that was a futile endeavour; in some ways almost everything Zayn did was touched with that cloying, rotten-sweet scent, the one that clung to his clothes and hair. Girls had broken up with him over it. Louis found it more a comfort than anything, though he was aware that was due mostly to his own lifestyle, one that involved almost as much as weed as Zayn's did. 

The dark had set in, and now the only light left was a lamp on the other side of the room and the streetlights shining in through Zayn's window. Zayn didn't mind smoking up in full daylight, but Louis liked it better like this when it was just the two of them. There was something about the darkness that put him at ease. He'd always had an easy friendship with Zayn, but in the past year or so it'd become even deeper. They'd begun hitting each other up outside of the occasional pub nights Liam dragged them both to; they'd become a pair. It was a secret pleasure when people asked him where Zayn was, as if he should and would know; he got a silent thrill every time Zayn offhandedly mentioned that someone thought of them as a single unit. In some ways he didn't even understand it in himself, only knew that he considered Zayn one of the best friends he'd ever had, someone he could let his guard down with in ways he hadn't even been able to in previous relationships. 

Now Zayn put the bowl aside. He looked out the window for a moment, and his entire profile was limned in silver light, the moon catching the tips of his long eyelashes and dark hair. "You all right?" Louis said.

"Yeah." 

Zayn got in these moods sometimes, even when he smoked. Louis nudged him with a foot. "You sure?" 

"Yeah." Zayn blew a long breath out of his mouth and looked straight at Louis with those eerie hazel eyes. "Budge over, I want to lie down," he said, and Louis acquiesced rather ungracefully. They were side by side, though Louis was lying straight on his back with his hands behind his back, and Zayn was a little over him, lying on his side with his elbow propping his head up. His shadow was falling over Louis a bit, and from here he could make out every detail in Zayn's face. He could probably count his eyelashes, too, but he was way too high for that.

After a moment of stillness, he realised he was staring, and dragged his eyes away. Zayn shifted a little bit, but he was still so close that Louis could feel the heat radiating off him. "Just ended things with someone today," he said, and Louis was so startled he almost sat up.

"Didn't know you were seeing anyone," he said, turning onto his side so that he and Zayn were face to face. He tried not to sound hurt about it.

"We weren't really seeing each other, I guess. Jus' doing whatever." His accent got thick and lax like this; though they weren't even from the same place, some part of it made Louis feel better. His own accent felt like it was disappearing the longer he stayed in London. Zayn's knee bumped up against Louis' as he shifted again to mirror Louis' position on the bed. He didn't move it, just kept it there. It was harmless but in some way it made the hair on Louis' arms stand up. 

"What was her name?" 

Zayn blinked, and it was so slow Louis thought he could almost feel it against his own cheeks. He closed his eyes hard and opened them again just to shake himself out of it. Outside, a car passed by, and the headlights made the lights in Zayn's room flicker, expand and recede. His hair, tipped in silver light, looked like ink in the darkness. "Ned." 

Louis' stoned brain tried to make sense of this. "Do I know her?" He didn't think he knew any girls named Ned; he thought he'd remember that kind of name.

"Yeah." Zayn closed his eyes. That didn't make any sense, because Louis only knew boys named Ned. Really, only one boy, and that was Zayn's friend, and he had a girlfriend. 

"I only know a boy named Ned," he said, and when Zayn didn't respond, he put his hand on Zayn's bearded cheek to wake him up. "Zayn," he said. "I only know a boy named Ned."

"Yeah," Zayn murmured without opening his eyes. For a second Louis thought he'd heard wrong; a dull shock reverbrated through him. 

"Wait, what?" he said. He couldn't think enough to keep up with this. "That's not funny, mate."

"Not tryin' t' be funny, mate." Zayn sounded like his tongue was too thick to be in his mouth. Louis' hand was still on his face, though by this point he had no idea what it was doing there. He felt fuzzy, out of it. 

"You're really telling me you were seeing Ned?" 

"What d'you think I'm saying?" Zayn grunted. He seemed like he didn't want to be bothered, but Louis wanted to know what the hell he was on about. He shifted even closer to Zayn, until their faces were almost touching, and shook his shoulders. Zayn shrank back from it. "What the fuck are you doing?" he said. His eyes opened, a shock of eerie light in the dark. 

"You weren't really with Ned, were you? Ned that we both know?" Louis could hear the desperation in his own voice and was ashamed of it, wanted to hide from it. Zayn didn't say anything. He wasn't one to regret, but now, without answering, it looked like he'd regretted what he said, and somehow that was worst of all. Louis wished he hadn't gotten so high that he could barely process what Zayn was saying, let alone process it emotionally.

"I was," Zayn said finally, after a silence had stretched out between them, gossamer like spiderwebs. He brought a hand up to his face; it brushed against Louis' hand. "With is a strong word. He said he didn't want to see me anymore anyway. It wasn't even that big of a deal." Except it had to have been, on some level, since Zayn fell in and out of relationships all the time and rarely treated them like this. Relationships with--girls, anyway. Louis drew his hand back and Zayn flinched against it. 

They locked eyes, and then Zayn looked away. "It doesn't even matter," he muttered. "It wasn't even a big deal." They were so close Louis could feel Zayn's breath on his face. Without knowing exactly what he was doing, he moved his hand from where it was between them to sling it over Zayn's waist. He could feel Zayn almost shy away, a minute movement, before relaxing back into it. They were curled into each other, knees practically locked, bodies close but not touching. It was a nonsexual intimacy he'd always craved, one that made him comfortable with Zayn in the first place, but now he wanted something else. He could feel himself almost shy away at that thought, and Zayn noticed. Instead of saying anything, Louis moved his head closer until they were sharing the same pillow. "What're you doing," Zayn whispered, and Louis shook his head. The tips of their noses brushed. 

Zayn was a beautiful person, and the light was making him beautiful and the night and the weed and this new revelation were making Louis feel strange, loose and randy and vulnerable and dully shocked all at once, so for what he did next he didn't fault himself. When he leaned in, and pressed his mouth to Zayn's cheek, just off the corner of his mouth, he could feel an electricity arc through his body; he could feel a shock push through Zayn's, a mirror to his own. He didn't move back, just closed his eyes and let it hang between them.

"Lou," Zayn said; his mouth moved against Louis' skin and Louis tried not to shudder from it. Zayn didn't say anything further. Instead he pushed forward and turned Louis' clumsy off-center kiss into a real one, his lips catching Louis' in a way that made Louis' toes curl. He tightened his hand into a fist in the back of Zayn's shirt and pressed their bodies together; Zayn was a line of heat against him. He opened his mouth and felt, with a jerk, the hot slide of Zayn's tongue against his own, Zayn's knee pressing between his thighs. He wanted to get a hand in Zayn's hair, but his were too busy feeling out the wiry lines of Zayn's arms, the soft skin of his neck. Then Zayn got a hand in his hair, pulled a little, and Louis groaned into his mouth. 

Zayn pulled away from the kiss, breathing hard. They were still so close that Louis could feel Zayn's breath on his face and instead of grossing him out it just made him shiver. He was so hard it had to have been obvious from where Zayn's knee was between his legs. "What're we doing?" Zayn murmured, and rather than answer Louis grabbed his hair and kissed him so hard it made their teeth clack together. Despite that it was still good, and Louis wanted to sink into the bed and let Zayn devour him. He hadn't known it could be so good, for some reason; he hadn't known that someone could make him want to give himself over like this. Zayn kissed at his neck and he could hear himself moan weakly. his hand tightening in Zayn's hair. It was like they were on a feedback loop; everything Zayn did turned him on more and everything he did in response to that turned Zayn on more. They were pressed together so tightly, and Louis was still so high, that he could barely understand the difference between Zayn's body and his own. He wanted to be consumed; he wanted to consume in return. It was a desire that he didn't understand, one he could barely name. All he knew was that when Zayn sucked at his tongue like that and pressed their cocks together in a slow, dirty grind, he'd never felt so good in his life.

In fact Louis had had stoned sex before, and it'd been great, but it'd never felt like this sensory overload. Every new texture, every new movement sent frissons of lightning running down his spine. The scratch of Zayn's beard, the soft material of his briefs against his hard cock, the firm pressure of Zayn's thigh, the warm flashes of Zayn's skin he could feel when his shirt rode up--they might have been arousing as they were by themselves, but in combination and with his stoned senses, he thought he was going to come right there. 

It was a release of tension, the way it felt to sink into a warm bed after a long day, but it was more than that too. At some point in his life as a sexual being, he'd come to the conclusion that no sex he'd ever had would ever feel as good, as _comfortable_ as what he could do for himself. Fucking was good, but it'd never be as good as his own hand on his cock when he needed to get off just right. This--whatever this was, with Zayn, was proving to be the exception. He could hear Zayn panting as they thrust unevenly against each other, and he could hear his own ragged breaths in sync with that, as the light dimmed and receded on Zayn's face, as he dug his fingers into Zayn's back. They kissed messily again, mouths catching and sliding off each other, and Louis grabbed a fistful of Zayn's hair as Zayn bit lightly at his collarbone, sucked at his neck. He could hear himself groaning and couldn't muster up the energy to be self-conscious about it; all those emotions, all that emotional processing, was shoved to a different plane of his consciousness. Right now all he wanted to do was feel this, and feel it he was. 

He registered Zayn's hands smoothing down his back, but didn't understand where they were going until they pushed past the waistband of his joggers, over his briefs, and grabbed his arse. He hadn't expected it at all, and it shocked him into a moan, one that was much louder than they'd been previously. "Shh," Zayn muttered, kissing him again. He groped Louis' arse again and Louis turned the moan into a deep kiss, grinding forward into Zayn's thigh. He was riding close to the edge now, much faster than he usually was after a bit of smoking. 

"I--" he said, unable to come out with the words. Zayn wasn't paying attention, too busy kissing his throat, and Louis got distracted by the feeling of his beard and the way his eyelashes looked against his cheeks when his eyes were closed. The pleasure crested, receded like a wave washing over him. Zayn kissed him again; he couldn't seem to stop, and Louis knew why. 

"Fuck," Zayn gritted out. It was the first word he'd said since they started, and it sent a shock of electricity down Louis' spine. He'd heard Zayn say it a million different times, in a million different contexts. In pleasure, in pain, in frustration; in sadness, when something wasn't working out; in satisfaction, when something went right for him. Louis had heard it so many different ways, but he knew, somehow, that whenever Zayn said it in the future, however it was said, he would always hear it like this. In the shadows, their bodies pressed against each other, with the memory of this intimacy of Zayn's mouth right next to his ear. "Fuck," Zayn breathed out again. "You feel so fucking good, Louis." His hands tightened on Louis' arse, and it was the combination of that sensation and hearing those words out of Zayn's mouth, in that fucked-out, lax accent, that sent Louis over the edge with a sound that could only be called a whine. 

There was no way Zayn could have missed the tension and release in Louis' body, as closely as they were pressed together; and as it were, that seemed to be what sent him over the edge as well. With a curse muffled in Louis' neck, he dragged his hands up from Louis' arse to his shoulders, and grabbed them as he kissed Louis through his own orgasm, moaning into his mouth. They stayed like that for a moment longer, two interlocking pieces, before Zayn moved back and then rolled over to lie on his back. Louis could hear his breath cutting into the silence of the bedroom, and now that there wasn't a roaring desire running through him, making him deaf to anything else, it felt ominous. He was still stoned, but he knew what had happened; and coming down from the post-orgasmic high, he had no idea how to deal with it. He could feel sleep overcoming him, an inexorable force. Faintly he registered Zayn turning again, head propped up on his elbow in a mimicry of how this had all started; he could hear Zayn say, "Louis?" 

But by that time, his eyes had slipped shut. Sleep, like a fine golden net, overtook him, pushing him underneath into the darkness. He felt a whisper on his cheek, like Zayn had brushed his fingers there; and then, finally, he slept.

 

*

 

In the morning it was Liam who awoke him by singing in the shower. He blinked once, twice, only to see that the other side of the bed was crumpled and empty. Liam's voice was echoing through the small flat, and Zayn was nowhere to be seen. He groaned and sat up only to realise that his pants were a dried mess and his mouth felt like sandpaper. Staggering to the kitchen, he realised that not only was Zayn not in bed, he couldn't have been in the flat--his Dr Martens were gone, along with the bag that held his sketchbook and laptop. It was probably the first time since Louis had known him that he'd woken up before 8 AM. 

The night was coming back to him in explicit flashes; every time he thought he understood what had happened he'd have a look at something in the flat that reminded him of Zayn and be met with a vivid recollection of how Zayn's voice sounded shaping his name during sex. If that even counted as sex. He didn't know anything about getting off with other guys. Though apparently Zayn did. He winced. He felt such a mess and there was so much to process he couldn't understand it. Ned had a girlfriend, for one thing--and for another, he didn't even know Zayn was into guys. And then there was the whole big event, the thing he didn't want to come close to. It was so enormous he didn't feel he could wrap his head around it properly. He sat down heavily at their dining table and Liam poked his head in.

"Heya Lou!" he said. He was cheerful, because he was a morning person, but also because he was a cheerful person in general. Liam was a good bloke to have around like that. Easy enough to get on with. He'd been surprised at first to know that Zayn and Liam were such good mates, since they were so different in attitude and appearance, but it made sense in a way. Zayn was moody, mercurial, brilliant, a bit unstable in certain facets; and Liam was the very definition of stability, but maybe a bit boring for it. They complemented each other the same way that Louis and Zayn--completed each other. That was an uncomfortable thought, after the events of last night, and it was maybe always an uncomfortable thought. It wasn't a particularly platonic thought to have about anyone, let alone someone you called your best mate. 

What he was discovering, now, was that everything loving and platonic could be seen in a different light on the other side of a drunken snog. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Liam was staring at him, waiting for a response. "'Allo, Li," he said. He raised his hand in a weak greeting. "D'you happen to know where Zayn went?" 

"Yeah, he's at the studio." Liam's face crinkled in thought. "It was a bit weird that he was up so early, wasn't it? You think he's all right?" 

Louis coughed. "I'm sure he's good. We got a little too--um. We did a little too much last night." _Everything_ was an innuendo!

Liam laughed. "I keep telling him, as you get older you've got to take care of your body more! You should know that better than any of us, Tommo!"

Louis tried to laugh along, but it proved to be too much for him. "D'you mind if I use your shower?" he asked desperately. "I'll just borrow some of Zayn's clothes, I'm sure he won't mind." Some of it was his, anyway, since they had somewhat similar taste in casual wear. At the time it'd seemed natural to just leave some of his clothes at Zayn's place to wear when he next stayed over, or to let Zayn leave stuff at his place for the same reason. Now it felt a bit more crazy. He wondered if he'd missed out on some big obvious sign all along, if there was some kind of telegram to let you know you were dating your best mate. But of course--he couldn't have been dating Zayn if Zayn were seeing someone else. 

"Of course," Liam said, waving a generous hand at him. "What's ours is yours, you know that. I'll make brekkie if you want." 

"Nah, I've got to get going, really, I just don't want to step out looking such a mess," Louis said. "Thank you though, mate." Normally he'd step in and punch Liam on the shoulder or make some sort of affectionate physical gesure towards him, but in the strange light from last night he couldn't even bring himself to step forward. Liam watched him curiously for a second before deciding it must have been a function of Louis' bad sleep. 

"Of course, lad," he said. "Hope you feel better, then."

 

*

 

In the shower, he washed everything away. He was sore in a few places, and he felt tender marks on his neck and collarbone that he hoped to God wouldn't become hickeys, because he had no clue how he'd explain them away. For some reason, he'd expected to have beard burn, but instead all he had was the phantom feeling of Zayn's beard ghosting across his neck, and every time he thought about it he could feel himself shiver. He didn't know what it was. If it was fear or pleasure or both. Or the fear of a pleasure so great it would force him to rethink everything he knew about himself. He'd grabbed some of Zayn's pants, a shirt and some sweats to wear out, and as he said goodbye to Liam and left their flat to go to his own, he couldn't help but prod at himself emotionally. Strangely, he thought, he felt very little about it. And Zayn hadn't called or said anything about it at all, so they'd probably just not-- _not_ say anything about it. He didn't know if he was okay with that or not. 

On the tube he could see two guys standing close to each other, closer than normal maybe. It was something he wouldn't even have noticed before but now he fancied he could see an intimacy in their gestures towards each other. Something about the way they were standing felt different. Like what had happened last night gave him superpowers. Then one of the blokes shot him a dirty look and they both turned their back on him, which made him realise he'd been staring, and that even though he felt like last night had flayed him open, left him raw and vulnerable, no one else could see it. He didn't know how he felt about that. 

His phone buzzed. Some time ago Liam had made a group chat of the five of them--Liam, Zayn, Louis, Louis' roommate Niall, and a guy they all knew called Harry--and that was what was giving him notifications now. _Anyone up for a pub night tonight?_ Niall had written. Louis stared at it for a moment.

 _Yeh sounds sick!!!!!_ he wrote. If Zayn came, it'd be fine. If not, it'd still be fine--he could pull some nice bird and get whatever this was out of his system. Right on the heels of his reply came Zayn's: _i'm up for it, yeah_.

So that was decided then. He stuffed his phone into his joggers pocket so he wouldn't be tempted to obsess over it, but his heart rate had already sped up. He just had no idea what was coming, and he hated that. He blew on his hands to warm them and saw one of the boys from earlier sneaking a glance over at him. He tried for a smile, and to his surprise, the boy smiled back, and so did the other guy, who Louis assumed was his boyfriend. 

They got off at the next stop, but Louis held that with him. That smile, tentative as it was. He didn't know what would happen next, but he knew he'd been changed. He held that smile with him, all the way through the ride, all the way till he got off. All the way back home.

**Author's Note:**

> content notes: two characters have consensual sex under the influence of marijuana, but there are numerous references to how high the pov character is during the act. one of the characters mentions that he is/was in a relationship with a man who has a girlfriend. there is a very brief and abstract homophobia mention. 
> 
> you can find me [here](http://hotgaydumbledore.tumblr.com/) and reblog this fic [here](http://hotgaydumbledore.tumblr.com/post/150084360082/relying-on-the-sun-4k-rating-e-pairing). comments are super appreciated!


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